His Hiro san
by Faye-Naruse
Summary: If Nowaki were to attempt to write an essay about what he loves about his Hiro-san, he wouldn’t even know where to begin... Egoist!fluff.


Title: His Hiro-san

Universe: Junjou Romantica  
Character(s)/Pairing(s): NowaHiro

Fic Type: One Shot  
Rating: PG-15?  
Word Count: 692

Warnings: Fluff, I love me my Egoist

A/N: This fic has been waiting to be posted for months now; I just never got around to finishing it X3  
Summary: If Nowaki were to attempt to write an essay about what he loves about his Hiro-san, Nowaki wouldn't even know where to begin…

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His Hiro-san

If Nowaki were to attempt to write an essay about what he loves about his Hiro-san, Nowaki wouldn't even know where to begin.

He loves how his hard-working Hiro-san's eyebrows pull together when he concentrates on reading or writing something, and his chocolate eyes, so determined not to pull away from the page as he studies it from top to bottom.

He loves how, on the very rare occasion, his adorable Hiro-san holds his hand ever so tightly, as if refusing to let go no matter what, and the faint carnation blush decorating his cheeks as they walk home together, fingers entwined.

He loves how his see-through Hiro-san's constant frown lines twitch every time he catches sight of him, as if to fight the smile aching to split across his face and hope that Nowaki doesn't notice just how happy he truly makes him and how empty his life he would be without Nowaki.

He loves how his temperamental Hiro-san will scream and yell and shout and throw things until he turns blue, just to hide how worried he is; or how he speaks loudly and denies Nowaki eye contact to hide his own embarrassment.

He loves how his easily embarrassed Hiro-san will blush a bright red reminiscent of fresh strawberries in the summer, ripe for the picking and perfect for nibbling on, every single time he compliments Nowaki, earning his flustered Hiro-san a genteel smile and a compliment himself, to which his surprised Hiro-san's light brown eyebrows raise high on his forehead and launch him into a quiet, humble mumble of modesty, his cheeks maintaining their refreshing strawberry color, sometimes even deepening.

He loves how his caring Hiro-san will catch on every time he is silently feeling down and how his patient Hiro-san will wait for him to say something, and finally, when Nowaki says nothing for too long, always tries his best to comfort him in the most discreet way he can, even if it means embarrassing himself.

He loves how when he feels insecure and impulsively attacks his wary Hiro-san, angering the fiery assistant professor, Nowaki knows his loyal Hiro-san will never leave his side for something as 'trivial' as that, no matter how immature his negative thoughts may have twisted him.

He loves how his straightforward Hiro-san beats around the bush as little as possible in most discussions– he much prefers getting right to the point.

He loves how tears streak his cute Hiro-san's cheeks, slowly sliding down the silky smooth, peach-like skin, until they are sloppily wiped away by a shirt sleeve, yet nowhere as often as the tip of Nowaki's thumb does.

He loves how his helpful Hiro-san will carefully explain to him what he fails to understand.

He loves how he will sometimes catch a most indifferent expression on his mature Hiro-san's face, which has to mean the assistant professor is deep in thought and is not to be disturbed.

He loves how his prideful Hiro-san holds his head high and never allows himself to lose to anyone.

He loves how his beautiful (and drippingly tempting) Hiro-san steps out of the bathroom half-naked, moist from the shower, as the bangs plastered to his forehead are pushed back and a towel is wrapped around his sinewy, sensuous hips, and only wishes he had been in there with him.

He loves how the curve of his sexy Hiro-san's body seems to melt perfectly into his, from his lips to his hips and everything in between, and the erotic noises he can bring forth from the depths of his lusty Hiro-san's chest when he holds him.

He loves how his arousing Hiro-san's eyes haze and his body seems to lose control of itself, overcome with desire, and silently yearning for more as they are tightly pressed against one another, every second growing more desperate and demanding than the last with excessively erratic heartbeats, passionate kisses, and roaming hands.

Before Nowaki gives himself a nosebleed (or something a little friskier), he decides that if he really were to write essay on the topic of his love for his Hiro-san…

…well, let's just say it would go on and on.


End file.
